Lovers Duet
by akuoni
Summary: A maniacal Phan Kidnaps Erik and takes him to the future. What happens next is up to chance. watch out for parallel worlds and chaos. NEW chappie filled with Fullmetal and Inuyasha pitstops and smacks ErikOC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: hi folks, this is me first Phanfic. Just so you know, lots of Raoul bashing, insane recluses, a parallel life, and maybe some romance. I own no phantom of the opera, except for a copy of the story which is coming in a couple of days and a copy of the 2005 movie. And My Aretha©. Don't hate me because I am no idea what's going in me head.

Come to me, Strange Angel

_Erik's POV_

_So... tired. I was stupid, you know, the way people are when they're in love. Yeah, I thought she could love me. Now, as I lay here, I realize that I already knew that she wouldn't love me. I couldn't face the music, chuckles, me the "Angel of Music," and the "Opera Ghost" couldn't listen to the insistent strum of my own logic beating a constant dissonance with my mad heart. I know I'm dying, people are so tired right before they die, and they feel no pain. I wonder if she'll bury the ring with me. I almost wish she wouldn't. I say my last farewells to the world, and only regret that no one heard my beautiful music._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aretha's POV

Perfect, absolutely perfect. I have everything I need to bring him here. Now for the song. _Music of the Night_? Nah, how about... _The Phantoms Duet_! Perfect. Candles here; chalk markings here, here, and here; black silk with a white band; and the song. Takes a deep breath.

_In sleep he sang to me_

_in dreams he came,_

_That voice which calls to me_

_and speaks my name._

_The phantom of the opera is there,_

_inside my mind._

Pauses to alter her voice and continues

_Sing once again with me_

_our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_grows stronger yet_

_and though you turn from me_

_to glance behind_

_the phantom of the opera is there inside your mind_

Pauses again

_Those who have seen your face_

_draw back in fear_

_I am that mask you wear_

_It's me they hear_

_Your spirit and my voice_

_in one combined_

_the phantom is here_

_inside my mind._

_He's there_

_The Phantom of the Opera_

_Beware the phantom of the opera_

_Begins vocalizing_

Finally, now let's see, wait five minutes and your very own idol/crush with arrive. Sounds good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_E's POV_

_It's dark, I always thought Hell was... well... full of fire and screaming souls. Strange. Wait, my eyes are adjusting to the darkness. There's someone there. I wonder what they're waiting for. Can they see me? What are they wearing? I could swear that... "Christine?"_

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Normal POV

The girl's laughter surrounded the man before her when he spoke those two syllables. She flicked the switch and the room was bathed in light. He flinched away and cried out, causing her to snicker at his discomfort. She grinned, a lackadaisical, sardonic thing.

"Welcome, Erik, to the year 2000 and six," she said, "I am your host, and please, call me Aretha."

"Where am I? Why have you brought me here? And what are you?" He demanded.

"Tucson, Arizona, to save you from either death, Christine, or a morphine addiction, and a humanoid, lycanthropic, descendant of the people of Vratrasia in, I think, the next fifteen galaxies over who dabbles in the mystic arts. Any more questions?"

"What is two-son? And where exactly on the map is the country of Arizona?"

"Tucson is a city, spelled T-U-C-S-O-N in the State of Arizona of the United States of America."

"Oh, but..."

"It became a state in the nineties I think."

"I see. Well, how do you speak French so well, and without an accent?"

"I'm not. It's part of the spell. It automatically translates anything the castee and castor says to the others most comfortable language. To me, you are speaking a mix of English, Spanish, and Japanese."

"Fascinating."

"I agree. Now, Time to feed."

"What?"

"Eat. You look like I did in my preteens. I hope you like medium well sirloin."

"I don't feel like it."

"You will eat, even if I have to ram it down your throat with a spoon." She stated in a sickly sweet voice that left no room for argument.

"Fine, do you have any wine?"

"Very poetic, and no, I don't. I have a minor problem with alcohol and tend to stay away from it."

"What kind of problem?"

"None of your concern my good man."

"I am not your good man."

"I know. Now let's eat and get acquainted."

Erik felt a strange emotion grip tightly to his gut and realized that is was fear. This was going to be a long... well it was going to be very torturous.

**Me: Well folks. It's begun. I feel sorry for the poor madman; he has no idear what he's in for.**

**Erik: I think I have a fair idea of what you are going to do to me.**

**Me: Really?**

**Erik: yup.**

**ME: Did you know about the fop that is coming up next chapter?**

**Erik: WHAT!**

**Me: and no, you can't use your Punjab lasso on him.**

**Erik: please.**

**Me: no, I need him.**

**Erik: Fine. Now where did I put my-**

**Me: NO! Erik, honey, don't kill my torture toy.**

**Erik: oh all right.**

**Me: thank you...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Me: cackles insanely. 'Allo mes ami. How are we today?**

**Erik: are you going to give me back my lasso?**

**Me: non Messieur Erik.**

**Erik: stares are you trying to _speak_ French or mutilate it?**

**Me: pouts fine you meany. On with the show... erm, story.**

AN: I own no Phantom of the Opera (except for a copy of the 2005 movie I think), otherwise, Raoul would not be such a dandy and a fop an', an', an' Christine would have stayed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stranger than Fiction

"I am your friend, oh most honorable ruler," she assured him with a distinctly patronizing way that reminded him of the Persian, "I wish you no harm, though... should my wishes not be, obeyed, a disaster (probably within your imagination) will occur."

Erik stared at her with a sense of apprehension yet again. It might be the fact that someone who has a mood as complex as Erik's, and a sense of humor that was anything but, can be a little unsettling.

"Now, I have a one-room apartment. Do you wish for the couch in the 'living room' or the bed?"

"I will take the couch."

"good. what would you like to eat, and don't go anorexic or bulimic on me or I swear I will stick you in a room with something far worse than Carlotta or the a bunch of sadistic torturers."

"what?"

"Anorexia Nervosa, a nervous disorder in which a person literally starves themselves to death in order to be skinny. Bulimia, also a nervous disorder, but people binge on food before going to the nearest restroom and forcing themselves to... erm... forcibly expel all food that enters their bodies through the mouth in a gagging reflex.."

"I see. How do you know so much about these... disorders?"

"Because I wish to see what kind of things idiotic animals will do to get laid." Suddenly her eyes went wide as she realized she had blurted it out. She froze, stiff as a statue before continuing on as though nothing had happened.

The sudden change in moods startled him, and he realized that this is what Antoinette and the Persian must have felt when _he_ abruptly switched moods. He filed this revelation away for further use and watched the enigmatic child. He could already feel a headache coming on and he had merely been here a few minutes.

As they were eating, the doorbell rang, nearly putting poor Erik in a state of cataleptic shock. They had been eating some slightly overcooked sirloin steak with, of all things, rice. She had been in the middle of apologizing for having no salt or potatoes when an exceedingly high pitched noise rang throughout the small rooms. Erik lurched so badly that he knocked over the drinks on the table and fell out of the low, but comfortable chair.

"Sorry Erik. I forgot to warn you about that. It's simply a device that allows callers to alert me that they are here, nothing more. I will be right back," and with that she stood up and left the table.

_That was a surprise. I wonder who she really is. There's something she's not telling me and I intend to find out._ As he sat contemplating, a sound broke him from his reverie. At his feet stood a cat. It was black, with a patch of white on its chest and the right side of its face. He got the distinct impression it was assessing him to see if he was worthy; what he was to be worthy for, he did not know.

"I see you've met my good friend, call her Specter." He jumped at the voice, and looked around. As he whirled, she backed away slightly to avoid getting hit. "Sorry Erik, I did not mean to startle you."

"It is quite alright."_ Stupid poetry, maybe she was right. I need to take a... rest. _As the thought, she saw his fascinating eyes waver and dim, bringing up a quote from who knows how long ago to mind. The quote escaped from her lips before she could stop herself.

"Eyes are the windows into a person's soul."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cry rang out, breaking Erik out of his musings. He saw the girl on her knees with her hands pressed to her eyes. His hand flew to his face and touched the cool porcelain of his mask. She stood up suddenly. Before he could react, she picked up a plate and threw it with some accuracy, smashing a beautiful mirror in the kitchen.

"EMPTY!" she shrieked in anguish, then fell burrowing her head in her hands, "they're empty."

"what are?" he asked kneeling down next to her. He felt concern worm its way into him and was helpless to fight back.

"My eyes," she moaned, "no more life in them than a corpse, for all my emotions. Eyes are windows to the soul, without life in them, no life in you." she then broke into fresh tears, never looking him in the eye.

"How do you know that?" he asked. "Do you think you have a soul?"

"I have always felt a horrible emptiness in me, I thought it was because of a long ago death, but I was wrong. Did you know that I have never felt betrayed, hate, or even regret? I am not complete. I take a perverse delight in breaking another's spirit, even when I feel despair for what I'm doing it's because I broke morals not because I broke the person."

He stared at her in a horrified fascination. The similarities that he had noticed went out the window at this discovery. she delighted, not in _physical_, but _mental_ torture. He backed away from her and she lifted her head up to look at him. She gave a weak smile that didn't quite reach the hollowness of despair that he saw in her eyes. They slowly fluttered and she went limp as exhaustion overtook her. He looked at her limp form. she looked like she had fought on the Just side of a war, but had finally, at the very end, just... given up.

He picked her up, entered what he thought was her room, and nearly dropped her in surprise. On the left side of the room stood a black coffin, and, on closer inspection had red satin trim. On the right side was a pile of soft bags arranged in a circular chaos and a dragon-print blanket. He looked at her limp body in confusion. _Why is she doing this for me?_ he asked himself as he laid her on the bags and placed the blanket on her.

As she lay there he watched her, the roughness in her demeanor sloughed away revealing a state of innocence he thought only very young children could possess. her face relaxed and he saw that she was under high levels of stress and that made her emotionally strained, not to mention drop-dead exhausted. The tears she never consciously shed began to flow fast and silently and her companion simply leaned on the coffin and contemplated his interesting new... whatever she was.

The doorbell rang again. Erik stiffened at the unexpected noise, but, since Aretha was currently... indisposed at the moment, he had to answer it. He exited the room, shut the door and opened the front door. At the doorstep was another reason why he should've worn a Punjab lasso on his 'deathbed.' He could swear he was looking at Raoul. He glared, narrowing his eyes and spoke.

"Who are you?" he asked, somewhat coldly.

"I am Robert Orpheus Ulysses LaMer. what's yours?"

"Erik. What are you doing here?"

"Miss Rusel has been invited to a bal masque and she is to bring one guest. I am going as The viscount de Chaney since my initials spell his name. You would make a fine Phantom if we need another one, I'll be sure to tell Andrea the good news if Darrin gets sick again."

"I'll tell her as soon as she wakes up."

"Thanks man. So, what do you think of her? She's such a recluse, the only ones who know anything about her are the Black (A/N: no offence, but I was thinking of my best friend and he's African American so no pitchforks please,) Miss Visita, (A/N: vee-SEE-tah) and Mr. McKenzie."

"Really? She seems... interesting enough."

"I heard that she attacked someone when they insulted the opera ghost for being a... 'homicidal, bloodthirsty madman.' They said that she was yelling 'Fop Lover!' over and over. they had to drag her kicking and screaming off the poor girl."

"So she is..."

"Relatively unstable, mentally, anyway. Just don't insult The phantom and you're safe."

"What about Christine?" R.A.O.U.L. paled.

"Oh **_GOD_** NO!" cried R.A.O.U.L., "She'll murder you with a dull spoon. believe me, she's tried before."

"I... see..."

"Yes, she's very dedicated to him, and hates Christine with a passion for abandoning him."

A relative calm fell over them for a while.

"Well, goodbye, I can't wait to see you guys there." said R.A.O.U.L. with a grin before leaving.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: don't own Existenz or Phantom of the opera.

_Death to the Demoness_

Aretha's POV

I opened my eyes. Then groaned as I realized that I have to buy _another_ mirror. my brain was still fogged and the only thing I currently remembered was that I had broken a mirror again. I instinctively stiffened as I felt a presence come up towards me. I did not recognize him as Josef. Josef had a silent but relaxed step, like a kitten. This man had a tigers' stride, fast, fierce, and deadly. Whoever he was, I will remove him from _my _domain.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Normal POV

He paced worriedly, then walked up next to her and just looked at her features. He noticed that her face was too strong and her body to tall to be truly beautiful, but there was a certain aura about her that made people see her as more than just a plain face. He also noticed that the innocence was still there, but it was weak as though it were being swallowed up. he leaned over to get a better look and...

_My head... that _hurt_! who knew a girl had such strength in her. What's wrong with her? She brings me here, faints in her own home, and then attacks me. I'm starting to believe that boy when he said she was unstable. _He looked like he was going to blow into atomies with the outraged emotions racing through him. He growled, picking her up roughly by the neck, which he noticed was a little longer than most Asians, and her eyes snapped open. The look she gave him was one of utter confusion as she realized that she knew him from somewhere but couldn't remember where. Suddenly, her eyes flickered like the last dying gasp of a flame and she recognized him.

"Wh-what are you doing E- e-erik?" she gasped, since her lungs were cut off from her source of oxygen, namely her throat.

"What am _I_ doing?" he asked incredulous, "Ridding the world of a viper, death to the demoness." and began to squeeze. She choked, her hands around his deadly pianist fingers as she tried to make him let go. As her vision went cloudy, she grinned as she realized that things truly become clear at Deaths door. She saw a Dark figure standing in front of her.

"Are you Death?" she asked. It nodded.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

WHAT?

"Are you female?" It was silent. It looked at her with confusion.

WHY DO YOU ASK?

"I put it on my 'Things to do When I Die' list."

I... SEE. YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON TO ASK ME THAT EVER. THE ANSWER IS... YES.

"wow," Said Aretha, "I'm impressed. How long have you been at this?"

OVER FIVE THOUSAND YEARS.

"That's a long time. Hang on, aren't we supposed to go somewhere when I die?" the figure thought it over.

YES, BUT YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO HAVE DIED YET, SO WE MUST GET MY FRIEND ERIK TO LET YOUR BODY GO WITHIN THREE MINUTES SO THAT YOU CAN GET BACK IN IT.

"Ok." she said, musing over how nice it was to talk to Death, "I would like to talk to you more, Death. You have such an interesting voice, can we have a conversation again sometime soon?" She felt as though it were smiling.

YES, YES WE WILL. Aretha grinned happily before setting sights on her corpse.

((_What have I _doneErik was staring at the cadaver in horror. He dropped it and backed away. The aura which surrounded her was gone, her face, grinning wryly as though she were listening to a wonderful joke was wide-eyed and blank though he could see confusion and fear still lingering. He closed them with a heavy heart. What was it he said?

Right,

_((Death to the Demoness.))_

And now, she's gone. Along with any chance of going back. he turned away from the remains of the poor lass.

"what have I done?" he whispered in torment.

"Given me an opportunity to have a conversation with Death," said an all too familiar voice, "you've got strong hands."

He turned around and saw her get up, massaging her neck.

"Apparently, you killed me before I was due, so they've let me stay this time. If you ever try a stunt like that again, I will stick you in a cage and have Carlotta serenade you for an hour, or you implode, whichever comes- Eep!" the cause for that squeak of surprise was that a _very_ emotional Erik pulled her into a bone-cracking embrace.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: THe last chapter was just a filler, as you have probably guessed, this is a bit more like sci-fi or fantasy. This Erik is a Mix of the Gerik and Leroux Erik, but he gets a little OoC because of my inexperience. Anywho, I don't own any Erik, PotO charrie, or PotO itself**

_Erik Eets Edjumacated_

"Erik? What are you doing?" asked a confuzzled Aretha, "I always thought that you were one of those angst-ridden madmen with an inferiority complex."

He stared down at her with confusion etched on his face, not that it's easy to tell you know with the mask and the fact that his face is covered and all that. "What is angst?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, then closed it in thought. "I believe it has something to do with trouble or anger or something of that nature," she said, finally.

"I see."

"Yup, And sorry about the punch, I wasn't entirely in control of my thought processes."

"Oh, I didn't know that females had such upper-body strength." At his words, she bristled with indignity.

"What!" she screeched, her voice cracking comically as she threw his arms away from herself. "How dare you! If I had a glove right now I'd hit you with it, and challenge thee to a duel. I'd probably lose, But I'd fight anyway."

"You are very..."

"Obstinate? Pig-headed? inflexible? take your pick, there's plenty to go around."

"Stubborn is quite sufficient."

She growled in frustration. Then, glaring she stood up and went to the kitchen to bake a pan of brownies.

"Don't bug me." she snarled at him when he followed, "And if I see you dip your finger in the mix, I'll chop it off," while under her breath she said, "I already have to deal with my brother doing that."

He sat on one of the counters while she bustled around the kitchen area. First, she got the ingredients out, then the mixing bowl and measures, then she pre-heated the oven, and, finally, the pandemonium commenced.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three-quarters of an hour later she pulled out a pan of brownies to cool. She grinned in satisfaction and sat at the table with Erik.

"Erik, you know she couldn't have been able to love you, right?"

"Yes, I knew, I just hoped that she would have been able to see past the monster on the outside, and into the man on the inside." he sighed, "I thought that she would have been, I don't know, less shallow."

"No accounting for taste," said Aretha decisively. He stared at her again. As he looked at her, he remembered something.

"There was a dandy here earlier."

"hmmm?"

"I could have sworn he was Raoul. I like him better though."

"Oh, that was Robert. He's kind of... Raoulish, but otherwise a nice guy."

"Raoulish?"

"You know, he is a bit of a fop; likes his hair; acts somewhat less than straight; and has a crush on a girl cause she's talented, not because she's nice."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"He said that you were invited to a bal masque."

"Fun," she said in a falsely joyful voice, "better get my costume out. It's a female version of Red Death though, technically, Red Death is male."

"I see. Can I come?"

"I don't see why not. I'll see if I can get you a costume, or you can go as yourself since here you don't exist."

"I don't? Then how did you know about me?"

"Gaston Leroux wrote a book about you; then a guy called Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a musical, and, i think, a play; Susan Kay wrote another book about you; Then when movies came out you became a hit. You've been played by the now infamous Lon Chaney Sr., also known as 'the man of a thousand faces;' Winslow Leach; Robert Englund, who is an assassin for good, but walks the tightrope between manic depression and ultraviolence;Claude Rains, created a shy, middle-aged you; Herbert Lom made you more British with Shakesperean training and gentlemanly behavior; Michael Crawford was youthful and romantic; Maximillian Schell; Charles Dance; Jack Cassidy; Julian Sands; and most recently by Gerard Butler, who has the most luscious lips I've ever seen. Yours are nice too."

He blinked slowly, lost for words. She blushed shamelessly.

"I also know what's behind the mask. There are different versions of it, but Chaneys is by far the scariest or most gut-wrenching; They had to have smelling salts in the lobby when it showed because plenty of women, and men, with weak constitutions couldn't handle Chaneys mastery of acting. I thought it was merely ugly and moved on, but I've been desensitized by modern movies. Believe me, they are far worse than a mere blemish."

His jaw dropped at her offhand way of mentioning his 'mere blemish.' She looked askance at him and began making a noise that sounded strangely like a cough and something else. When she composed herself and told him something that he thought was relatively confusing.

"Have you heard of a Phan?" she asked him.

"A what?" he asked curiously, not understanding.

"A Phan, spelled with a P-h."

"I can't say that I have. Why?"

"Dragonsteeth. You'll have to wear different clothes, and make-up."

"Dragons teeth? wait-what?"

"It's a thing i say randomly when frustrated and you heard me. Different clothes, and make-up. Until i can get you an appointment and a... other things you'll need."

"Right, so what are we going to do now?"

"edjumacate you on the happenings of the last hundred years or so?"

His visible eyebrow quirked at the word she used, but shrugged it off.

"So, what has happened?"

"Automobiles are commonplace; horses are outdated; music has shot to the gutter; france has been invaded..." she looked at her fingers, "twice, i think-"

"WHAT!"

"France was invaded by the Germans in World War II, then France, Britain and the USA came in and kicked the Germans out. Also, the Americans dropped an explosive device on Hiroshima, Japan and leveled it. They used the relatively new Aeroplane that carries things in the air to bomb Japan."

"You said world war.. 2? there was another one?"

"Yes, but i don't know a lot about it. Some eedjit shot the... duke, i think, of Austria and ev'rybody in Europe started fighting. Poland got ripped apart and Different countries claimed her. America sent support to Britain and pretty much stayed out of the war. Also a real madman, in WWII, took over germany and started killing Jews of all genders, races, and ages just 'cause he thought they were inferior. His name was Adolf Hitler."

"Hitler? I guess Nostrodamus isn't as false as I thought."

"Bah, humbug. He was just lucky, it could've been a river for all we know. Also the Czar of Russia is gone, his son and one of his daughters survived. It was either Anastasia or Marie i think."


	5. Chapter 5

**ME: Hola mes amigos! How are you this fine... whatever?**

**Erik: Spanish?**

**ME: Si senior Erik. Como estas usted?**

**Erik: growls.**

**ME: ahhh... I see you are well, Didn't you like your four o'clock wake-up?**

**Erik: glares**

**Me: glares back**

**Thirty seconds later,**

**ME: hah! I win!**

**Erik: you cheated.**

**ME: irk, on with the sh-story.**

**Erik: Finally.**

A/N: Beware, I put some serious Erik bashing in here, even though I love him to Death and am very sorry for what I did. Don't flame me for bashing the poor guy, please. Also, I don't own anything, so stop tormenting me. Sobs pathetically

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Man, Beast, or Monster?_

Erik was still a little confused, but when she showed him the joys of the Internet, he took to it like a duck takes to water.

"ARETHA!" Well, almost. She skittered in like he was dying or something equally drastic.

"Yes, oh honorable one?" He glared at her. Why she insisted on twisting the definition of his name he would never know.

"What is this?" he said pointing to something she had book marked on her computer. She paled to the color of his porcelain mask.

"I kin explain."

"You can explain what?" She gulped like a prisoner before the chopping block.

"It's how I... fell." she said, and immediately closed up.

"Fell? Fell from what?" She sighed.

"From grace, i fell; grace, i must find." she looked at him with such misery, he could not help but pity her for whatever it was. She saw the pity in his eyes and he saw rage build up in her eyes like a firestorm.

"I don't want your pity," she snarled lashing out. She seemed to deflate, collapsing in on herself, "I just... I want to be like other people. I can't release my self from the cage I am trapped in. I know what it's like to Die from any wound, I see the way a person feels i feel it as if it were my own. I read books and I Feel their anguish I feel every thread of betrayal, every cut, e- e- everything."

She laughed mechanically. the laugh held strains of desperation and sadness.

"A monster who only feels the pain of people who don't exist. So tragic, isn't it?"

"you're not a monster."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"YES I AM!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT! YOU DON'T HAVE A FACE NOT EVEN A MOTHER WOULD LOVE!"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT STUPID SOB STORY! I'VE SEEN SUNBURNS THAT LOOK WORSE!"

"OH YEAH!"

"YEAH!"

"THEN YOU WON'T MIND IF I TAKE IT OFF!" he roared, ripping his mask off.

"YOU ARE SUCH AN IDIOT! You... You pompous, overbearing, narrow-minded bastard!" She snarled, her voice returning to normal as she tried to think of proper insults.

"What did you call me?" he said, deathly quiet. She didn't notice the usually telltale silence.

"You heard me, I called you a pompous, overbearing, narrow-minded bastard. I should never have brought you here in the first place. I have never been human enough for anybody; that makes me either a monster or an animal. I thought i could bring you here to be a friend to someone who doesn't know me in any way because I'm so like them, but no, they don't like me. Well fine! I'll send them back!" She looked at him with a mad gleam in her eyes as her face distorted into a deadly visage of psychosis.

He began to do something he thought he'd never, beyond any doubt, do in his life, fear for it with a passion. She took a menacing step forward. The mad flame still lit in her eyes and he did something else he never thought he would do, run for his very life. She shot after him with a speed to rival the great Mercury, messenger god of Greece. He sent a prayer skyward for whatever Deity was watching over him as a hand grabbed the hem of his long, billowing cloak.

"To were do you think you are going, my dear Erik?" she asked in a venomous tone that made his blood run cold, "Don't you want to go... home? Right, that lair of yours, where you'll die... alone, and unloved. Where your _darling _left you for her precious... Vicompte, isn't it? Pity the poor fool who fell for that spineless _thing_. Wait, It was you, wasn't it?" she laughed maliciously and he cowered in her cage of words.

Suddenly her voice crooned softly into his ear, "She never loved you; she only loved your voice." _stop, please _"She didn't know you were a human; with human needs, human... desires." _don't do this to me. _"Did she? That's right, you were her... Angel of music; sent from heaven above." _it hurts, don't make me remember _"You weren't real to her, when she saw you, she only saw the demons that plagued your face and mind, not you." _Don't please, i beg you _"She is too shallow, your dear angel. A pity she was so pretty. one would think she was like Beauty," she forced him to look at her and he saw strange emotions warring over control for her face, "and you the Beast."

Horror filled her face and she pushed him away from her violently. A haunted look appeared in her eyes before she fled to the room. He was confused, scared, and worried. Scared because he had never felt such madness emanating from anyone else before; confused because there was something haunting her; and worried because... because of the look she gave him before fleeing.

"_gone and lost it,_

_never kept it,_

_soulfull sorrows always follow me._

_Why'd i do that?_

_Why'd i hurt him?_

_why can't I_

_why can't I_

_why can't I_

_let anyone in?_

_Shoulda stopped there_

_shoulda left alone_

_Too late now,_

_too late now_

_Send him back_

_don't keep 'im caged_

_Don't be selfish_

_let him go._

_Here I sit_

_fallen far_

_It's my fault_

_send me away_

_I release him_

_I'll send him back_

_I will miss him_

_he doesn't belong_

_I hope he_

_will_

_forgive_

_me._"

He heard the strange tune, it was halting and painful. He knew it was being composed by the strange girl as she was in her room. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him, but he could't get her torturous words out of his mind. He got up and went to sleep on the couch; carefully unbuttoning his cloak and curling up to fit on the tiny divan (A/N: a fancy word for sofa. Fwee!)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erik's POV

_Something is poking into my side. Stupid quills, I must have fallen asleep while composing... again. I have to stop doing that, but I must finish my Opera _Don Juan Triumphant_. It's my pride and joy you know; I'm going to die with it in my hands, and I am a kind of _Don Juan_, You know._

"Erik, wake up." _What does Antoinette want now?_

"Erik, Wake up."

"_I don't feel like it."_

_"_We are going to be late, You did want to go, right?_"_

_"Go where?"_

_"_Great, I have a phantom suffering from amnesia._" That doesn't sound like Antoinette, that sounds like..._

_"Aretha? izzat you?"_

_"_Thank the stars, I come out here to apologize, and tell you I found a costume for you wear to the masquerade, and you're 'dead to the world' as we say here._" Dead to the world, hah._

_"Cute. I suppose that was a joke?"_

_"_You suppose correct Messieur Absentminded Ghost._"_

_"You're not going to give it up are you?"_

_"_Nope, not a snowballs chance in heck."

_"Heck?"_

_"_You know, the place where people go when they've been bad and it's full of screaming souls and stuff._"_

_"Stuff?"_

_"_You know what I mean._"_

_"Quite. What did you find?"_

_"_Do you think you can fit in this?_" Merde!_

_"It's le Morte Rouge, but how?"_

_"_I forgot, I won it at a party i went to and totally spaced on it. I will have to go as La Femme Morte Rouge, ah?_"_

_"What a pair we will make."_

_"_A Beast and a Monster?"

_"No, two outcasts of society."_

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: Aww, poor Erik. I couldn't stop myself. References to the newer Disney Peter Pan movie, and Gaston Lerouxs PotO. Can you find them? Anywho, cheers, thanks and, laud, i miss Chocolate chip cookies. I am very sorry for hurting my poor obsession.**


	6. Chapter 6

Me: Allo, How are you guys today?

Erik: grumblegruntgrrr.

Me: It's not my fault I have Terra Nova and have my alarm clock set at five to vake up in time to get ready.

Erik: Well you don't have to wake _ME_ up.

Me: Poor baby, you're my current muse, you have to be avake vhen I am.

Erik: doesn't mean i have to like it.

Me: that's the spirit.

A/N: Like I said, sorry about the Erik bashing back there. I don't own The Phantom of the Opera, o Le Fantomme de l'Opera.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Outcasts? I like it. So, you want to be friends?" She stuck out her hand and grinned at him.

"What?" he looked at her hand like he'd never seen it before.

"Do you want to be friends with me?"she repeated, pronouncing her words slowly and clearly.

"I'm confused. Not stupid."

"coulda fooled me," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, smiling sweetly. (A/N: alliterations, gotta love 'em.)

"Right."

"So are you going to go the bathroon, bedroom, or out here?"

"What?"

She sighed. _It's like talking to a child; and old child_, She thought.

"Do you wish to get ready in the Bathroom, bedroom, or out here in the living room?"_ where i have a peephole to see your fine figure, _she smiled slightly at that thought.

"The bathroom, if you please." _darn, _she thought with a slight frown. Supressing her dissatisfaction she handed him the costume and led him to the bathroom.

"Here it is. Also, if you need any help, don't hesitate to holler."_ Derned poetry's getting to me again. I need to start reading Poe again; get into the morbid spirit and all._

He looked questioningly at her and entered the purple-and-blue tiled room. He quickly pulled on the red fabric, marvelling at the soft feel of the artificial fabric in the shirt. ((authoress temporarilly swoons as she imagines Erik in spandex, being she is chock full of hormones and brownies.)) He looked in the mirror and to his dissatisfaction it showed off his rather, ahem, gifted frame. He frowned, but pulled on the pants, which, irritatingly enough, were also rather form-fitting, showing off his long, graceful, and well muscled legs. He replaced his white porcelain mask with the slightly disturbing mask of the Red Death, put on his swirly scarlet cape, donned the fedora and strode out of the bathroom.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**At the same time:**

Aretha turned and went to her room, pulling the red costume out and removing her clothes; a simple brown tee-shirt that was too big and a pair of sleeping pants. She pulled on the tight shirt and relaxed at the way it felt on her warm skin. She quickly pulled on the poly-fiber skirt and put the black make-up around her eyes to make them appear sunken, grumbling about how Erik was SO lucky he didn't need make-up to scare people. She then put on her mask, adjusting it slightly as she squinted shortsightedly at the full-body mirror. She whipped her own fedora on backwards, put on her own swirly cape, grinned at the mirror in a jaunty manner, and turned to stride out of the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a crash in Aretha's room as well as a growled curse of pain. Erik rushed into the room to see a very intoxicating female Red Death glaring daggers at the coffin while her hands rubbed her offended hip. She heard her door open with a bang and looked up at Erik. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened, and if she had been thinking clearly, she would have noticed that she was salivating rather obviously. As it was, the only coherent thought was, _I cannot believe she _left_ such a gorgeous body. I bet he would-_

"Aretha?" Erik said, noticing the strangely animalistic stance she was taking, and, luckily, breaking the trance she was in. She snapped back to attention, wiping the drool off her jaw, and looking away from his body.

"Yes?"

"Are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"YES!" she snapped, stressfully.

"Ok, no need to get snippy. One question though."

"What?"

"Why were you looking at me like that?" She colored almost incandescently, thankful of the mask.

"Umm. I'm not the only one who will do that at the dance. about any girl there who sees you is going to do that and flirt with you. Being a ghost sure gives you a toned body."

"Oh."

"Here, in this world, at least you are the object of the obsessions of many phangirls. Raoul also has a very tiny following, by girls; _I _am not one of them. I doubt Christine is well liked by more than half of the female population that's read a book based on your 'affair,' for lack of a better word, with Christine Daaé and most people don't like Leroux making it seem like Mme Giry was less than intelligent. I think she should have had a better position, especially since I saw the mo- er, musical first, and in that, she was a Ballet Mistress."

"How many of these... fans, do i have?"

"I don't honestly know. They are all obsess over you though."

"I see, and the viscount?"

"Various unpleasantries would befall his person... preferably in the Socks."

"In the... Socks?"

"They would probably do something along the lines of making sure he can't, er, do it."

"It?"

"You know, when a man loves a woman very much..."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/n: Well folks, you're gonna have to wait for the next, or next next, chappie to have the masquerade, I could coerce people to review but that's not my style.**

**Erik: since when?**

**Authoress glares at Erik before returning to the audience: Anywho, if you want either one of your characters, or a book character (like Susan Death who is taking over for her poor grandfather, he can't visit these other realms like he used to, see Terry Pratchett's _Going Postal_), character to pop up please tell me, i would love to have 'em as a 'guest star' so to speak. Be sure, if they're a 'muse-'**

**(Erik: coughprisonercough)**

**Authoress ignores her muse: that their keeper is there to keep them in line and that it isn't another Erik, mine is currently a bit jittery from sensory overload and I don't want Aretha to go to jail for unintentional murder.**

**Erik: What! There are MORE of me?**

**Me: Yes, now my parental unit is making me very angry and snappy so I will end this chappie and ask if anyone caught the _Monstrous Regiment _ reference. Sayounara!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Me: Hi folks, as my aunt pointed out to me in her confusion, Aretha seems to be incredibly strange. Aretha is suffering from a mental disorder, I haven't really decided which one (or ones as the case may be) though, that causes her to seem sadistic at times and relatively sane at others. I also realized that I never told you guys what she looked like. The only thing you've been told are that she has a strong face, long neck and has a similar build to Chr- Chr… I can say this, Chris… tine. **

**Erik: Not to mention she is also suicidal.**

**Me: Shut up. She has no wish to kill herself.**

**Erik: But she brought me to the future.**

**Me: To save you from whatever was goin' to kill you.**

**Erik: I was going to die a Natural death!**

**Me: who says?**

**Erik: I say.**

**Me rolling my eyes: riiiiiight.**

**Erik huffs.**

**Me: ok, on with the shtory.**

A/N: I don't own phantom of the opera, or anything else, don't rub it in… (Cries pitifully)

**Also note: this Erik has the mask covering all but his mouth and jaw line because I love Gerard Butlers full luscious lips and I want Aretha to eventually kiss them**

**One last note: This is my first Phan-fic, but my third non- one-shot story... I need to work on my others.**

**Random quote:**

**Ah, screw it. I'm calling Slade. - Gizmo from _Teen Titans_**

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_In Which Inspiration Strikes the Authoress, Hard, and Rather Haphazardly_

Erik was still unsure about Aretha's frame of mind as he put the finishing touches on his costume. He looked at her, her pale orange-ish skin seemed to glow almost white in the harsh fluorescent lights. Her medium-length hair, which she assured him was dark brown, took on dark, reddish-purple highlights. He thought about her almond-shaped eyes in his contemplation, a strange, sparkling brown that reminded him of a shallow brook on a sunny spring day. Sometimes they darkened to a black and gold flecks would explode like midnight fireworks in a stunning display. Very strong too, his jaw still ached a little; Christine would never have- _Wait, _he thought, _why am I thinking about Aretha? I was -am- in love with Christine, aren't I?_ He only knew her for... he looked at his pocket watch, thirty-six hours and he was already thinking, (Authoress: cough obsessing really. cough Erik shoots her a glare: I'm doing this against my will!), of Aretha. He smiled at the irony, only a day-and-a-half ago he couldn't get Her out of his mind and now look at him, memorizing an almost total stranger.

"What, may I ask, is so funny?" said the reason for his musings.

"Nothing, just thinking."

"I see. Hey I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"It's kind of personal."

"Okayyy..."

"And it has to do with you-know-who." (A/N: Not Lord flees-from-death, shakes her head solemnly and throws a cast-iron frying pan at the quivering lump of black wizarding robes on the floor Grow a spine you great prune of a pureblood. I swear, Tom would be more fun than you and he's got a serious issue with us so-called non-wizarding folk. Realizes she is ranting and quickly leaves)

"Yes. What is it?"

"Promise not to yell or wig out?"

"I promise."

"Did you sleep with her during the two week disappearance?"

He stared at her in shock. She was asking him a question that implied that he dishonor an unmarried woman. After a moment of silence she nodded.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

"Why did you ask that?"

"Phantom of Manhattan. It also said that Mme. Giry was named Antoinette."

"THAT is correct, but I would never sully a woman's honor in such a crude manner."

"I got it. Well, nowadays for a single woman who isn't part of a... yeah that place, to sleep with a guy she's only known for a short time and who she's not married to is quite common nowadays." He blinked.

"I see. Why is that?" She shrugged.

"No idear, I personally think it's 'cause our society is devolving and we are reverting to our most primitive of ancestors in some ways and worse than them in others."

"Worse?"

"Oh jah, much worse. Little Boy vas a big boomer," she said with a fanatical gleam in her eye, "Little Boy blew up Hiroshima."

"Who is little boy?"

"Little Boy is not a person; Little Boy was a bomb that leveled a major Japanese city."

"What do you mean?"

"The buildings were flattened and da people nearest ground zero were vaporized. The rest were burned and sometimes got lethal doses of radiation poisoning."

"What's that?"

"It's kind of hard to explain. How about I give you my history book and you learn about it yourself. I am getting dehydrated and need to get all my supplies ready for my- er, _our_ appearance."

"Ok." She left the room for a few seconds and came back with a thick book covered with purple construction paper and weird markings as well as a glass of Sunny Delight, which she drank in a series of rather large gulps. She sat down on the couch before speaking

"Don't worry, no spells, just doodles. Specterik (phonetic pronunciation: spehk-tehr-ick.) accidentally stepped on one of my pentagrams once. He sometimes takes human form, so if you see a guy who looks kind of like you roaming around don't kill 'im alright?"

"Specterik?"

"My cat, I sometimes call him Specter or Erik. Specter is for when I have guests or when he makes me mad. Erik is the rest of the time usually."

"Wait, the cat with the white patch on his face?"

"Jah, that was Specterik. He says that he doesn't like you being here, I can't see why not, I mean, he _is_ your reincarnation."

"He's my _what_?"

"Your re-embodiment in this world."

"He's a cat."

"Better than a bug innit?"

"I suppose, but a familiar?"

"He is not my _familiar_, He is my _friend_."

"Cats are witches animals."

"I beg your pardon! I am a spiritual being who uses ambient neutral powers for myself, not- never mind. You are so aggravatink."

"What?"

"Witches are spiritual beings that use _neutral _ambient energies for the good, or bad, of mankind. That means that the same power that is used to curse someone is also used to help someone."

"Oh."

"Yes. SPECTER! Get your furry butt over here now!" a few seconds later a cat oozed in and began changing shape as slowly, and as aesthetically pleasing as possible. When he finished, Erik took a good, long look at him. They were exact mirror images of each other, except; this man had only half of his handsome face hidden behind a mask rather than most of it. Even the eyes were the same hue.

"You bellowed," he said in a gravelly voice. Aretha cackled and SE (A/N: I'm lazy, Specterik is gonna be known as either Specter or SE from now on.) grinned.

"I love Addams family!" she squealed, "do another one!" SE grinned that hot Gerik grin that makes phangirls swoon.

"Morticia, darling, I fear I cannot," he said, his grin changing to a smirk.

"Specter, if you wish to be able to father little baby Specters sometime in the future-" She was cut off as SE kissed her on the lips. When he drew back, she giggled like the insane phangirl she is and grinned.

"I have two phantoms in mah house,

Mah only wish?

They don't kill each-oother.

If they doo...

A disastah, beyond their imagi-nations

Will ah-cur." she ranted with a false Scottish accent before giggling insanely and fainting.

Erik stared at the unconscious Aretha before looking at SE.

"Does she do that often?" he asked.

"Meh." Specterik shrugged, "sometimes, if she gets incredibly drunk or someone she thinks of as attractive kisses her. She'll probably do that if you kiss her too. Strangely enough, all she wants to do is talk about the torture of fops and Divas or how stupid Christi- grack!" her arm shot out and her fingers wrapped around his throat.

"Don't speak the name of that...snnnn... Broad near me..." she growled threateningly before releasing him and rolling over. He rubbed his neck.

"I forgot about that," he muttered, "Her name is taboo around Aretha. As you can see, even unconscious, she is aggressive when that name is even started."

"Well, what do you want to do until she wakes up?"

"I don't know... Get to know each other better maybe? We are going to be living in the same house anyway. I don't get why she likes you more though."

"What do you mean?"

"She's always asking about my past life as you. It drives me mad, and she only likes me because I look a little like you. Not because she knows me."

"Oh."

"Yes, and she has at least some sense of self-restraint as well. Being a tomcat, most of the time anyway, I tried to what's the phrase again... 'Sow my seeds' or something like that. She came very close to. The only thing that stopped her was fear really. She seems to fear that she will feel pain."

"It is said that a first union is painful for a woman."

"I see. She also is very frustrated and violent when the time comes. You are so lucky, she still has..." he calculated the time in his head, "approximately twenty and a half days until the next one."

"I think I understand," said Erik as he thought about the women who had their times come and chuckled. "I remember when Carlotta had her time come during a production, she was twice as irritable. I actually felt sorry for anyone who did the slightest thing to attract her attention."

"Was that the April one or the December one?"

"April. Wait, how did you know?"

"Hello, re-incarnation."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. How about we examine this tome?"

"Sure, I'll get the popcorn and a few encyclopedias."

"Why do we need popcorn? And what _is _popcorn?"

"Popcorn is a delicious snack that was discovered in the Americas."

"I see."

Erik and Specter opened the book and, after figuring out that the sheaf's of paper stuck in there in a random pattern were bookmarks, began reading about everything that happened in the past century. Fifteen minutes later Specter made popcorn and they resumed researching. By the time Erik ate most of the popcorn, and got oil all over the pages, he had gone through the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**ME: hallo, I know... It sucks big-time, but it wouldn't leave me alone till I wrote it. Please don't be angry at me. Specter being human part of the time hit me while I was in the tub and I tweaked it for a while until I decided to put it in.**

**Erik: Why do you have a blonde British kid in your room wearing... something and muttering insanely about a crazy Muggle woman?**

**Me: Uh, kidnapping him in the hopes that Voldemort (random terrified gasps from nowhere) will come and I can have a one-sided conversation on the vices of the Blitzkrieg mindset.**

**Erik: why one-sided?**

**Me: because he will be bound, gagged, defenseless and at the mercy of at this point she shudders in terror Carlotta singing a high note off-key in a bad way.**

**Erik: You are one sadistic... teenager.**

**Me: one tries. I'm hoping a Khanum personality will show him the power of a Muggle. Cackles insanely**

**Erik looks at her then at Aretha: Dear lord in heaven.**

**Me: Jah, that's my personality magnified and placed in her.**

**Erik: You are enough to make me renounce my atheist ways and join the priesthood.**

**ME: you're no fun. I like being insane.**

**Poof**

**Voldemort: What have you done with my-?**

**Malfoy (the blonde British kid): My Lord, help me!**

**Voldemort: I demand you release my underling.**

**Me smiling sadistically: I don't think so my dear necrophobic, Antisocial, trigger-happy sociopath. I have business to attend to with you. First, my aura should be de-spelling the area around me- energy surge! Dude you have way too much energy! Accursed tournament of prospective guardians making me like those inferior Vratrasian warriors! Even when BJ and I had our powers switched I didn't feel like a PMSing woman without a sign of chocolate for miles around. Accursed grrrrrrr (I ramble on for several minutes being disgruntled about anything that catches my fancy at the time, including the fact that it's not gray enough outside to be properly dreary. Then, realizing I've been rambling, I get my thoughts back on track.) Now for that one-sided conversation on the Blitzkrieg mentality.**

**Erik: while the authoress tortures the poor- Akuoni! Put those boxes down!**

**ME, holding his grasshopper/scorpion boxes: please Erik!**

**Erik: NO!**

**ME: But-**

**Erik: My dear, Carlotta is enough for anyone.**

**ME: He's tone-deaf.**

**Erik: oh.**

**Me: yeah, so, please!**

**Erik: No!**

**Me all huffy: fine.**

**Erik: as I was saying, while she tortures that, uhh-**

**ME: undead, sociopathic, necrophobic, hypocritical, Antisocial, trigger-happy, villain.**

**Erik: Akuoni! Stuff it! Whatever he is, while she tortures him, I have the duty to inform you that the masquerade is _maybe _next chapter and that this ch-**

**ME, as Voldemort makes a break for the door: GET the Bugger! Grrrrrrato tosssssse!**

**Voldemort falls to the ground, bound by catgut ropes. I begin walking over.**

**Erik, gritting his teeth: That this chapter is over!**

**Me: Now, mister I-have-a-really-bad-French-pseudonym, I want to talk to you about**

**Point A. Tactics...**

**Point B. Enemies...**

**Point C. have you tried Furbies?**

**They are really quite effective as torture devices, would you like a demonstration? I have the cutest purple/blue Furbie. I would use a pink one, but I'm afraid that pink is my polar-opposite color. It is found in my first younger sisters realm. Purple most often is in my second younger sisters room; she is the balance between us in a way, and I'm rambling again.**

**The authoress leaves and returns with the torturous device in her, almost reverent, cupped hands like some kind of offering.**

**Everything fades as a horrible shriek of pure terror fills the room. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Me: Hola mis amgios y amigas. Whoops, sorry wrong language... Hi guys and girls. How goes life? **

**Erik: It _was_ nice.**

**Me: then what happened?**

**Erik muttering: You did...**

**Me: I can't be that bad, can I?**

**Erik: You made that wizard cry for his _mother_! In five minutes, no less.**

**Me: How was I supposed to know he had an intense fear of ho-ho chocolate cakes?**

**Erik shudders: I'd hate to be your enemy.**

**Me looking at the conversation: We should get back to the story... **

**Erik: Now you're talking.**

**A/N: Don't own PotO. I do own: a book, 2005 movie... Seen: 1925 movie, Phantom of Manhattan, Animated movie, revised 1925, 2005 movie... Want to see: every movie I missed, Phantom, Musical...**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: This story is set during the first Semester of School.**

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_**Prelude to Maskerade**_

"So, let me get this straight... Not only was France invaded in World War One-"

"Also known as the Great War."

"- But it was also invaded in the Second World War!"

"Yes, but only for a short time. In the first war, only a portion of France was invaded; in the second war, the whole country was invaded."

As the two men conversed, Aretha awoke. She lay silently for a moment as she listened to them before getting up to get ready to go to the masked ball.

"Let me see..." Erik muttered as he leafed through the book some more. He paused at a word and sent Specterik to get another Encyclopedia book. He looked at it and nodded.

"Baka!" the voice came from the bedroom; Erik turned and eyed the bedroom door curiously. Behind the door, Aretha was hitting her forehead repeatedly with the palm of her hand as she realized that she had left her sheaf of papers at Darrin's house.

"That was certainly very interesting," said Specter as he returned with the book.

"Who was that?" asked Erik, looking up and taking the proffered book from Specter, "And in what language?"

"Aretha must've woken up. She just said 'Stupid' in Japanese."

"I see," he looked at an entry in the encyclopedia, "Ah, I understand now."

Aretha left the room and threw a hooded brown Jedi robe to Erik and headed towards the door. Erik looked at it in confusion.

"Aretha says it's time to go," Specter clarified. Erik put it on with a little help from Specter and followed after Aretha. Specter sighed and changed back into a black cat. He left through the cat door and went off to see Khan, a purebred Persian cat he had met in the pet pound.

Erik found himself following after a brown-robed figure that was hurriedly belting the robe closed as she raced to Darrin's house.

"Aretha, what is the matter?" he called, speeding up.

"Forgot my papers in Darrin's house; he is my partner for this Phantom double satire," she told him as he caught up.

"You're turning my life into a joke!" He exclaimed in shock. She waved her hand vaguely.

"Of course not, I am just saying that it's a double parody. I am playing a female version of yourself, _but_ Darrin is also playing a male version of yourself. So, there are two versions of Erik running around. My characters name is Erika; Christine is Christopher; Raoul is Rachel; etcetera etcetera etcetera."

"You said it three times," he noted; she frowned in confusion for a moment before grinning.

"_The King and I_," she told him, "I saw it when I was younger and picked up that phrase. The king of... Siam liked saying etcetera etcetera etcetera when he was dictating. I liked it too, so I incorporated it into my way of speaking. _The King and I_'s a musical."

"I see... So, why are we going to this Darrin person? And why are we going as... some sort of prophet?"

"Cause I need these papers for the storyline my school is acting out, and I don't want to spoil the 'surprise' entrance we'll make when we go to the dance. Also, these are Jedi Robes, not for religious use."

"Oh."

"Yup, we're here," she said, stopping at a creepy old house that was built in the Addams Family type of style. Erik stared at it in shock and alarm. "Don't be alarmed, it is only the outside. The inside has reconstructed medieval furniture."

Aretha rang the doorbell; the first strains of _Addams Family _played much to her delight. A tall, lean man opened the door and bowed.

"I greet you, Miss Rusel, Darrin has been waiting for your arrival," he said as he straightened up.

"I greet you Carvalli," she replied, "How is the Missus?"

"She is well." he said backing up and allowing them entrance, "who is this young man?"

"His name is Erik... Destler. Say hello, Erik."

"Hello Messieur... Carvalli?"

"I greet you, Mister Destler. Darrin is in the Parlor."

"Thank you Carvalli," she said bringing Erik inside, "Come, Erik, and please don't touch anything; it may be booby trapped."

He nodded as they passed through two rooms; one was white as snow with red curtains, while the other was purple with black curtains. The parlor was black with curtains the color of blood. There was a grandfather clock sitting in the room, as well as several dozen black chairs and couches. In one of the divans, a macabre ghost reclined in lugubrious relaxation. It sat up as the two other ghosts entered.

"Hail Caesar," it called in a decidedly male voice.

"Hail Brutus," replied Aretha.

"Who's this, Jack?" he asked.

"This is Erik Destler, Darrin. He is a foreign exchange student," she replied.

"Hail Marc Anthony too, then," he said sitting up and proffering his hand. Erik shook it solemnly.

"Why-" began Erik, but he was cut off by Darrin.

"No worries mate. We always greet each other with names like that, depending on the amount of people in the room. I call her Jack because she acts like a character called Captain Jack Sparrow; she calls me Will 'cause I act like a character called William Turner, and cause I look like my father-"

"-Who I met years ago," she finished. Darrin nodded in affirmation.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Hey, Will? I left the... papers here and I was wondering if you were the one who's gonna be giving them to our managers."

"Yeah, you'd probably lose it again, Jack. Do you know who's going to 'kill' the lead this time?"

"I think I am. You're going to next semester."

"That's cool."

"So, we gonna come down on the opposite staircases, or the same one?"

"Opposite stairs, Jack," he said, "just like the twin Phantoms always do."

"'Kay, thanks Will. We leaving together?"

"Yeah, just a minute, though," he vanished in a puff of smoke, much to Aretha's annoyance.

"Showoff," she muttered.

"You know you love me," he declared as he reappeared, pulling on his black, Sith robes. She simply grunted; he chuckled. Erik watched them with a mix of amusement and bafflement. They went to the garage, passing two other rooms in the process, and Darrin pulled a cover off one of the cars, revealing a sapphire-blue Jeep. They piled in, Aretha instructed Erik in the basics of seatbelt fastening, and they drove off.

While they drove to the school, Aretha and Darrin told Erik about the Star Wars movies. They then told him what a movie was, well Darrin mostly, since Aretha was getting a major in drama and he was getting a major in mechanics. He then had to describe a DVD player, a TV, and a movie theatre.

As they pulled into the half-empty parking lot, they were challenged by a knight in shining armor. Strapped to his waist was a two-handed long sword.

"Halt, who goes there?" the knight said through his visor.

"Two dead men, and a dead woman," replied Aretha with a grin.

"I am the guardian of the lot. You must answer three questions to pass, if you fail to answer the questions correctly, you will be flung far far away. Who will go first?"

"I, The Red Death will go," the three stated in the same instance, they looked at each other and laughed. The knight was unfazed.

"Red Death... What is your favorite color?"

"Red," replied Darrin.

"What is your purpose?"

"To grace the fools of Prospero's court with our presence," replied Erik.

"What is the flying velocity of an unladen swallow?" he asked

"What kind?" asked Aretha.

"What?"

"What kind?" she repeated, "a European swallow or an African swallow?"

"I don't know!" he cried. The springboard he was standing on flung him high into the air and he landed in a large pile of hay. "I'm all right!"

Erik and Darrin stared at her in surprise.

"What?" she asked, "I watched Monty Python tons of times. The guardian of the bridge asked that question to King Arthur and I just repeated what he said."

Darrin laughed and pulled into the lot, but Erik looked at her quizzically. She told him about the movie, at great length. Soon, he was clutching his sides with mirth.

"I didn't know you liked it that much. You usually watch movies like a hundred times before you get bored. You watched Monty Python like three times," he said, finding a spot right next to the back entrance.

"Monty Python is like applejack... you can only take so much," she said primly, trying hard not to laugh as they got out of the car.

"Yeah..." muttered Darrin, "and I suppose PotO is like French wine?" Aretha snorted.

"Of course not..." she said, "PotO is like milk chocolate... Too much of that... woman will make you sick."

They entered the building that had 'Multi-use Room' written on the front with bronze letters.


	9. Chapter 9

Me: Gomen Nassai I beg a tousand pardons from everybody who reads my stories,

Erik: heh, yeah right, you're too busy reading Inuyasha, I knew you had weird tastes- but going after a real demon. you're crazy.

Me: He's not full you baka sweetie. He's only a half-demon.

Erik: Only?

Me: Meh... on with the story

Meet the first (and only so far) cameo charactors

An insant headache throbbed behind his temples as music,_ hah,_ blared from the speakers. Erik whimpered lightly as he clutched his head.

Aretha spied her friend and made a beeline towards her but was intercepted by a blonde-haired, golden-eyed boy (slightly taller that her) in a military uniform and another man in a suit of armor that stood taller that Erik himself. She blinked in surprise as he addressed her.

"scuse me, are you the one Bonnie was talking about?" asked the boy.

"Nii-san, you've asked three other girls and-" asked the other in the suit of armor

"It depends, if you want alchemy aide, see Whin Rocker over by the punchbowl. But don't drink any; it might be spiked." sighed Aretha. _Edward and his little brother are sometimes annoiing_

"So, you don't want to dance?" asked the boy, deflating. She gasped in surprise, as did Erik.

"I am afraid I must decline for now 'cause-" she was cut off as someone spoke,

"konban-wa," called out a silver-haired boy with pointy ears(on top of his head) as another, older, young man merely glanced at her calmly, "Doko-"

"Inuyasha, she's not here yet. Hi Sesshomarou; hows things with bonnet doing?"

"Keh, i don't feel like waiting," grumped the animal-eared boy as the other one glared at Aretha. She grinned disturbingly at them before continuing onward. The boys shivvered when they were sure she was out of sight; the younger boy muttered something to the older one and they grinned evilly before sneaking off...

"HENTAI!!!" was the offended screech as Arethas friend smacked a baby-faced teen in blue monks robes across the face just as the music ended. Aretha chuckled as she snuck up behind them. SHe carefully snuck up and groped her freiends bottom whil the boy was within an arms reach- totally implicating him in the process...

"BAKAYARO HENTAI!!!" as he was punched this time. Aretha nickered like a horse as her friend rounded on her.

"Bonni-chan!!" Aretha exclaimed as she glomped her friend. Her friend EEP-ed in surprise as she staggered. Bonni was taller than her friend but Aretha was more energetic by far. Aretha grinned and murmered in bonnies ear for a moment before bonni began blushing and Aretha let loose a triumphant 'HAH!'

Aretha soon left her friend to be hugged suddenly from behind. she yelped in surprise as she felt the unknown asssailant's breath on the back of her neck and his hands hovered above her eyes. She did the only thing she could think of in this situation; she turned around and glomped her best friend from Japan in a most spectacular fashion.

Erik felt a tic develope above his eye as he watched his... whatever she was, act in such an unseemly manner. It was utterly shameful, and yet... Erik wondered what it would feel like to have Christine do those things to him. He noticed something strange as he thought about her... Christine was starting to turn dark haired and her eye and skin color shifted as well; if he didn't think any better she was starting to look like...

"Aretha!" exclaimed another man with a strange tattoo on the back of his hand. "when were you deciding to give me a hug?"

"When Boss decides to destroy the Earth," she replied, "I'm not interested Greed."

"Oh, come on," Greed replied with a sharp grin, "you know you want some." He grabbed at her and caught her waist. She struggled and he clutched her tighter.

"Let me go..." she said, frightened.

"Let her go..."

A/N:: Ohh cliffy... who should be the one who breaks them up?

Erik?

Ed?

someone else?

let's have the readers vote...


End file.
